Aftercourses
by Gaya3N
Summary: The ending of Hardy's Return of the Native as i envisaged it. Written from Clym's point of view and his thoughts about Eustacia


**Author's Note: We studied Hardy's Return of the Native this semester and this was a fic I wrote in response to a request from a friend who was bored of the text.**

**This is just a random fic and I don't expect many people to read it. But well you know if ur really bored, you could try it.**

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**Aftercourses**

Clement Yeobright was not a man who drank excessively. Yes, during his youthful days in Paris he had indulged in all the varied pleasures of life and alcohol had been one of them. But he had never been a man who had to resort to alcohol to numb his senses, until now.

He drowned his seventh glass of mead for the evening, and slammed it down on the table with an irritated sigh. Looking out of the window he saw the full moon shining bright and setting the Heath alight. "How beautiful she looked that night" a whisper escapes him. And he is immediately angrier than he was a minute ago. He groans and rubs his tired eyes "Why won't you leave me?" he questions the howling wind that taps at his window.

Pushing the chair back he gets up hastily and stumbles across to the window. All the alcohol has affected his co-ordination skills and its minutes before he can shut the window securely. But then he stands there, his head resting against the cool window pane and he looks out at the barren heath. He sees Alderworth at the distance, and feels the guilt creeping into his heart again.

"I tried. I tried to save you" he repeats the line he has been repeating ever since that fateful day last November.

"You didn't try hard enough. You could have come earlier to get me and you never came" her voice cuts through his heart and he turns around to find her sitting on the little bed in the corner of the room. Clym cannot but admire her beauty even though it's tinged with the paleness of death- that last look he remembers so clearly on her beautiful face. She looks other-worldly as she sits on his little bed and he becomes conscious of how the living Eustacia Vye would have been as much of a misfit here in his room as she is now.

"Don't say that" and he has to cling onto the table to support his weight. He is almost pleading. "I've loved you Eustacia. And I love you now."

"You lie" she states with the assertiveness he knows her to possess, the assertiveness that had seemed adventurous in her nature and had attracted him to her. There is a smile on her face, but that is the smile he has never seen before, not from his beloved Eustacia.

He thinks back to all those moonlit nights when they had walked upon the heath and she had looked at him and smiled her sweet smile. He distinctly remembers the feel of her small hands in his and the smell of her skin as he lay buried underneath her cascading tresses and pressed small kisses to her neck. And he remembers the passion with which she kissed him back, a passion that had set his soul on fire. And now that she has gone, he feels the coldness creeping into his heart.

"If I could I would take it all back. I would forgive you. I did forgive you Eustacia" there is a desperation in his voice; he would give everything he has to have her back.

She gets up and walks up to him. She presses her hand to his face, and he leans into her touch, even though his mind is shouting "She is dead." He shuts out that voice, clings onto that unnaturally wonderful feeling. "Eustacia…" the words escape his mouth like a prayer and his eyes shut of their own accord. They stand there as man and wife, their souls in touch with one another and he thinks he can almost feel her breath on his face when she leans closer to him. She kisses him; he feels it on his dry lips. And then it traces his jaw line and moves to his ear where it comes to a stop. He clearly hears her whisper "And I shall never forgive you."

There is a loud knock on the door before it opens to reveal Thomasin standing with a candle. "Dinner's ready." She states quietly. She doesn't turn away and leave immediately. "Are you thinking about her again, Clym?" He doesn't answer. He looks away. "You have to stop." He knows Thomasin is thinking what's best for him. He wishes he could stop these visions of Eustacia, but the truth is, he can't. And a part of him reminds him that he doesn't want to.

Thomasin sighs and leaves him in darkness. He turns back to the window and staggers forward. Setting the window open again he lets the cold wind take away the heat from his face, from where Eustacia had kissed him. "You will come again tomorrow, won't you?" he asks hopefully and the distant howling wind over the heath is his only answer.

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**If you've reached so far I'm truly greatfull :) Do review and let me know what you think. Just takes a min *pretty smile***


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